Monday, June 20, 2016

I Promised You What Could Not Happen

I promised you what could not happen:
wax melted into diamonds,
the ruby vanishing into pearl

and to be jade myself,
in a swirl of snow.
how could I know

which task was first
or that on earth,they always said
none of them would be done

by one who lived wherever
I happened to live
with other people's curtains

floating in the breeze,
with the lease unsigned
and I like jade, white jade

disguised in the falling snows.
this is not the clock on the mantle,
you complained;

this is not the stocking, hung by the grate.
this is your fate, I thought;
I have nothing to do with

the leaves that skirl before the door;
time that slipped past you,
as though you were born ghostly.

mary angela douglas 20 june 2016